Page 42 of Love of the Bladed Dove
“Hey pretty lady,” Xaden crooned, draping an arm around Kain’s shoulders. “You free later?” The entire room roared. Layla’s laughter shook her shoulders until her eyes watered. But even in that joy, she felt it—that familiar gaze.
Across the room, Theron watched her. A small smile played at his lips. Her laughter faded as her cheeks warmed. He always made her feel so exposed with just a glance.
She dropped her eyes and focused back on Kain, who was now stomping off, presumably in search of something less humiliating to wear.That’s what he gets. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit of pride in the stunt she just pulled on him. Finally, the weight on her chest loosened. Just for a moment. Then, she gathered herself and turned to the group. It was time to plan. Tomorrow, they would face hell. But tonight, they would sleep under stolen roofs, beside warm fires, with weapons close and laughter closer. And Layla Eradellian would be ready for whatever comes.
“At first light, we will carry on to Bartoria,” Layla said firmly, straightening her shoulders as her gaze flicked between Sir Edwin and Theron. “Can we continue on the roads, or do we leave the horses behind?” Before either could answer, her mind leapt ahead. “And how far are we from Bartoria? We have to be close… right?”
Sir Edwin glanced at Theron, silently deferring the response. Theron nodded. “We’re only a few hours away. If we leave at first light, we’ll reach the outskirts by midday,” he replied. His voice was steady, authoritative. “With the amount of rain we’ve had, there’s no telling how many roads will be washed out. But we should try with the horses for as long as possible. If we need to abandon them along the way, so be it.”
Layla gave a small nod, absorbing the information—but Theron wasn’t finished. “If I may…” he added, waiting for her approval. She gestured for him to go on. “Bartoria’s outer city is barely guarded. Getting inside will be easy. But the castle…” He hesitated. “We’ve never infiltrated it. I don’t know its weak points. And if the maid was right about a celebration, the guards may be more alert than usual.” At that, Layla’s brow furrowed.A celebration?
As if summoned by her thoughts, a maid emerged from the kitchen carrying a basket of bread. “Maid?” Layla called gently.
The young woman froze mid-step, eyes wide as she turned to face her. “Y-yes, my lady?”
“What celebration is happening at the Bartoria castle?”
“The… wedding, ma’am,” the maid answered shakily. “The king is to marry. In two days’ time.”
Layla blinked. “A wedding?” That made no sense. Not after losing a battle. Not so soon. Unless… he was securing his legacy. “Who is he marrying?”
“I only know what was written in the invitation, ma’am,” the maid said, fidgeting with the edge of her apron. “It mentioned a royal wedding. Starting with garden party and royal feast. Then the following morning the official ceremony. All of the northern territories were invited. My lord left just this morning to attend.”A wedding. With all the fanfare of a political summit. That meant new guests. A new opening.
Layla narrowed her eyes. “And you just happened to read your lord’s invitation?”
The maid’s eyes widened suddenly, before dropping her head once again. Then with a small shrug, “We’re the ones who seal the letters. Press the suits. Ready the horses. We see more than we should.”
“Of course you do. Maids always know the secrets.” Layla gave a dry smile. “You’ve been helpful. Thank you,” Layla dismissed her with a nod. The maid bobbed a curtsy and fled back to the kitchen. Layla turned to the table of men, who were now all watching her with expectation.
“Well,” she said dryly, “looks like we’re going to a royal wedding.”
The timing was eerie. Fitting. Bartoria had used a celebration to ambush Graystonia. It was only right that she returned the favor. Soon the maids returned, carrying trays of roasted meats, root vegetables, and steaming bread. The scent alone made Layla’s stomach grumble, only now realizing how long it had been since her last full meal. Everyone dug in with unspoken urgency. The room filled with the sounds of chewing and satisfied groans. The Antonin warriors, predictably, skipped using the utensils entirely. Layla couldn't stop a small grin from curving her lips as she watched them devour their food like wild animals in silk nightgowns.
Once the plates emptied and everyone began to lean back in their chairs, the planning resumed.
“We can’t all go in,” Kain said, brushing crumbs from his lap. “Too many of us, too noticeable.”
“You’ll need us if things go sideways,” a Graystonian soldier countered.
“The point is not to fight,” Sparrow reminded them. “Stealth is the only way this works.”
“They’re not just going to hand the princesses over,” Xaden muttered. “There’ll be a fight.”
“We’ll fight if we have to,” Theron said evenly. “But we go in with the hope that we won’t.”
“How exactly are we supposed to blend in?” Xaden asked, turning toward Layla. The room fell quiet.
“We’ll find proper wedding attire in this manor,” she said, her voice steady with command as she informed her decision. “My Graystonian men will stay outside the city limits to guard the escape route and preparefor a swift, loud extraction if things go wrong. They’ll be our strength if subtlety fails.” She turned her gaze toward the Antonin warriors across the table, men born of wilderness, shaped by silence, and trained to kill like whispers in the dark. “You Antonins, along with Sir Edwin, will come with me into the castle as guests of the wedding.” A few brows lifted, but no one spoke. “Your tribe’s customs,” she continued, “your posture, your poise, they’re unfamiliar in Bartoria. That works in our favor. You’ll be perceived as nobles or foreign dignitaries. No one will question why you don’t speak much or why you keep to the walls. If anything, they’ll be too afraid to ask.”
Kain smirked at that. Xaden tilted his head, clearly pleased. “Antonins are trained to blend into forests and fortresses alike. You know how to stay quiet. How to kill without a sound. And, if needed, how to vanish. That’s what I need inside those walls. Ghosts in silk.” She looked around at the others. “If we all went in, we’d draw too much attention. A group this large, this armed, would set off alarms before we ever reached the throne room. But if we move like invited guests, like shadows slipping through candlelight… we may reach the princesses before anyone even knows that we’re there.” Layla’s voice hardened slightly. Every man at the table nodded. Even the ones who clearly hated every part of the plan. They all could at least agree that stealth would get them in, but vengeance would get them out. Layla rose. Fatigue clung to her bones like damp cloth. “Get rest. We’ll move out at dawn.”
She climbed the stairs slowly, each step heavier than the last. The laughter and planning faded behind her, replaced by the memories of the men they’d lost today. Their faces. Their loyalty. The way they trustedher with their lives. She entered the room and shut the door softly behind her.
The fire still crackled. Her bed was waiting. But so was the weight of command. Layla curled on the mattress, her arms wrapping tightly around her knees, and pressed her face into her hands and cried. Silent tears for the soldiers. For her sisters. For the girl she used to be, the one who thought bravery looked like speeches and crowns.
The door creaked open and Layla jolted upright. Quickly wiping her face with the heel of her hand as Theron stepped inside. His gaze found hers instantly, and even in the flickering low light, she could see the worry there. He crossed the room in two strides, then dropped to one knee before her. Without asking, his hand lifted, warm and steady, his palm cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed the last of her tears away. She closed her eyes. Just for a second, and let herself lean into the comfort. Let herself feel something other than guilt.
“You need to go,” she whispered. “Please. I can’t…” She opened her eyes slowly, meeting his. She needed him to understand: She was too tired to be angry right now. Too tired to pretend she could hold herself together in front of him. Thankfully, he didn’t argue. Just nodded and stood, but didn’t step back.
